


too spooky for my taste

by enbyofdionysus



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, First Meetings, Halloween, M/M, haunted hayrides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 09:12:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: “Excuse me, sir,” said one of the workers and Jove was abruptly aware he was speaking to him. “If you’d still like to go on the hayride, we have a spot open on the couple’s ride.”The couple’s ride.Jove felt what was left of his good mood wither and die.





	too spooky for my taste

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Zeus/Percy request for a Halloween Fluff series. Posting here as part of the Big Tumblr Purge.

Jove should have known the day was going to go terribly.

He had an inkling it was going to be horrible the week before when he had suggested to his wife that they go to their cabin in Massachusetts the following weekend. It would be romantic with the leaves changing colors and the lake right at their fingertips. Juno had recently cut her hair and he was painstakingly waiting for the time she allowed him to run his fingers through it.

But Juno had shot down the idea. She had six weddings happening that weekend and gods forbid if her manager Juventas took on the weddings herself.

Mid-way through the week, he had suggested to his boyfriend that they take a ride up to the ski lifts to see the fall foliage. It would be wonderfully intimate and they could enjoy a glass of champagne after they’d returned to the ground.

But Ganymede had politely declined. His cousin Eros was coming up that weekend and the two boys had planned a trip to P-town together. Jove was free to join them, but the idea of a lengthy car ride with any of Ganymede’s relatives made him consider multiple death scenarios, each of them more pleasant the last.

When Friday finally rolled around, he asked his children if they would be willing to go to the farmer’s market upstate as they used to do before Thalia had discovered safety pins as an accessory and Jason had decided to go to community college. They had declined his offer, but then countered and asked if he would be willing to drive them to an upstate haunted house and hayride event instead.

And so here Jove was, standing outside of a haunted house he absolutely refused to enter, dressed in a plaid button-down he had been forced to wear instead of his favorite sweater because of global warming, completely ignored by his children who had become, to his horror, adults in the short amount of time they’d been on earth.

He tried not to be selfish about the day. He paid for his children’s tickets and watched not unhappily as they laughed with friends and ate caramel apples. But he felt oddly left out, especially when it was their turn for the haunted hayride and there was no more room in the wagon after Jason had pulled himself up.

“It’s okay,” Jove assured them when Thalia began to rise to get out. “You two have fun.” And he put on his biggest dad-smile and tried not to feel so tired watching his kids be pulled away. He could have been going down on his wife right now. He could have been enjoying champagne with his boyfriend in his lap. He could have been in Massachusetts fishing on the lake.

When, Jove thought, did I become so old?

“Excuse me, sir,” said one of the workers and Jove was abruptly aware he was speaking to him. “If you’d still like to go on the hayride, we have a spot open on the couple’s ride.”

The couple’s ride.

Jove felt what was left of his good mood wither and die. To not only be forced to go on a haunted hayride (Jove hated anything that involved horror, not because he was easily frightened, but because he didn’t see the appeal of things flying at your face and grabbing your arms and legs) but to go on a hayride with a stranger.

Jove sighed. “Yes,” he said because he refused to go back to the car. “I suppose that’s alright.”

The worker nodded and led Jove over to another hayride truck, this one rusted and blue. Attached to it was another wagon, but this was far smaller as if meant for children or, as the worker had said, for couples. Jove hadn’t really been paying much attention to the truck as they approached, too busy lamenting his weekend, and so when he sat down inside the wagon he was surprised to see the person across from him was not, as he had expected, another sad, middle-aged man like himself.

It was a young man.

It was a  _stunning_  young man.

Jove eyed him appraisingly.

And to his delight, the boy eyed him appraisingly back.

His face was a fierce thing made up of cheekbones, jawlines, and eyes as green as Spring. His stare was intimidating, softened only by the artistic mess of black curls on the top of his head and the gray Henley covering his torso. Jove could see a blue plaid button-down peaking out from the collar, the waist, and wrists, which were bunched up around the boy’s elbows. Idly, Jove wondered what the shirt would look like bunched up beneath the boy’s arms.

Perhaps this hayride wouldn’t be too painful after all.

“Hello,” said Jove.

“Hi,” said the boy. His eyes flickered to Jove’s beard, his torso, away, his arms, his face, away.

 _Ah_ , thought Jove. He held out his hand, pleased with the way the boy’s eyes danced over his tattooed forearm and knuckles before he held out his own. They shook. “Jove,” said Jove.

“Percy,” said the boy.

“Stood up by your boyfriend?” asked Jove.

“No,” said Percy. “I just don’t like the haunted rides. My friends went on the one ahead of us.”

Percy hadn’t corrected Jove to say he was straight, therefore answering the real question Jove had asked. But his answer also confused him. “This isn’t a haunted ride?” he asked.

Percy shook his head. His curls moved with him. “This one just takes you around the farm and stuff.”

“Oh,” said Jove. His mood improved considerably at this. The sun had begun to go down, but it was just high enough that they would be able to see the vivid colors of the trees, the bright oranges of the pumpkins, and the crisp green colors of the corn fields as they were taken around the farm. He felt himself begin to smile as the truck began to move.

Percy seemed bemused by his shift in behavior, although he had relaxed a little bit more himself. His converse sneakers, covered with holes, almost touched Jove’s boots. “Don’t like to get spooked?” he asked as they drove around the farm. In the light of setting sun and the red, orange, and yellow colors of the leaves, Percy looked like a vision of youth.

“Forgive me,” Jove replied. “I prefer the nature side of autumn.” He waved at the scenery around them. “The only thing that would make this better,” he admitted, “would be a nice glass of wine.”

It was true. Jove had his trees. A beautiful boy. All he needed now was the–

Percy handed him a flask.

Jove stared at it.

“Spiked cider,” said Percy.

Jove took the flask, careful to let his fingers graze Percy’s just so. It had its intended effect, making Percy blush and swallow hard as Jove held his eyes while he drank.

The cider was good. Sweet, with a careful kick. Not too strong. Not too weak.

“It’s good,” Jove said with approval, handing the flask back to him. This time, Percy was the one to hold his gaze as he slid the flask into his pocket. Jove allowed his eyes to noticeably flick to Percy’s lips. The air was warm, but the smells of the hay and the corn and the trees were making his skin itch for something more than the gentle leisurely ride of the truck. Perhaps, he thought, Percy would enjoy a weekend in Massachusetts if his wife didn’t.

The truck jostled them a little as they moved from the dirt road to gravel. The sun was lowering, lowering.

“Percy,” asked Jove, letting his voice rumble a bit. It was the voice he used in Ganymede’s ear when he had him bent over the side of the bed. Percy blinked at him, his eyes fierce and curious. “Are you doing anything behind the barn later?”

“Behind the…?” Percy trailed off and then let out a small, disbelieving laugh. It wasn’t mocking, just surprised by Jove’s forwardness.

Jove allowed himself to smile, just a little, but he held Percy’s eyes.

“I–” began Percy and then he gave another breathless laugh and looked away, then looked back, then away, then at Jove’s arms. “I’m free,” he finally said, voice scratchy. He tried to clear his throat.

“Good,” said Jove.

And they finished the hayride in pleasurable silence.


End file.
